


It's a Gamble (and They Know It)

by querulousArtisan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: HSO, HSO Round 1, HSO Round 1: Gambling, Homestuck Shipping Olympics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/querulousArtisan/pseuds/querulousArtisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You didn't know quite to expect when you opened the door during a late, thunderstorm filled night.  Especially when you opened the door to a scrawny, drenched, bifuricated troll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Gamble (and They Know It)

You certainly had no idea what to expect the moment that knock on the apartment door occurred. You had barely heard it, over the music of your mixes and the booming of an all-too-rare thunderstorm in the distance. You flashstep there, reflexes all too quick for just a normal DJ, spitting out a “Fuck! Hold your horses! I'm getting there!” when you hear that second knock.

You had expected plenty of things to be at that door. Your best friend, Egbert, with a pile of shitty movies and pranks up his sleeve. Rose, your ectobiological sister there for an impromptu psychiatric session. Hell, you even expected a certain nubby horned mutant blood to be there to rant at you about something you can't even remember doing.

What you had not expected was the lanky, dripping wet form of a four-horned, honey-blooded troll to stare right back at you with those intriguingly odd eyes of his. Slung over his shoulder was a duffle that looked far too heavy for his thin frame, laptop bag in hand, back pack weighing him down.

“I need a plathe to thtay for the next week.” he says, in an almost begging tone.

You could have said no and simply slammed the door shut and have been done with it. It wasn't like you knew him. Maybe that's what you should have done, not knowing what would truly occur within the coming week. However, your Strider pride simply would not allow for that to happen. After all, you had the space. An extra, spare bedroom you always kept aside for guests, including the ones you didn't quite know. Instead you step out of the way and let the soaking troll into your tiny abode.

It was a gamble and you knew it. For all you know, you could find yourself waking up tied to a chair and your belongings gone. Maybe you wouldn't wake up at all, murdered in your sleep. However, this troll before you didn't seem like the type to do either one of those things. In truth, you were certain that all he needed was a place to crash.

It started off simple enough. You both kept to yourselves and didn't bother one another. But that was merely the first couple of days. It worked. He did whatever it was, usually up until the wee hours of the morning programming. You, on the other hand, were up just as late spinning mixes and still drawing those garish comics that you never quite grew out of.

It wasn't until the fourth day, however, you began realizing how much of a gamble this ended up being.

You weren't fully aware of Sollux's tendency for mood swings. You really haven't had the chance to really observe it, with him being so wrapped up with a string a code, yourself with some sick beats. The fourth day, however, changed that.

You had barely grazed him coming into the kitchen. Had nothing been said at all, you wouldn't had even been aware you bumped into him. But Sollux was testy, and you had committed a serious offense.

“Do you ever watch where the fuck you're going, Thtrider?” he snaps so fast your head spins.

“Woah, dude. Sorry!” you quip, taken by surprise by the sudden harshness of this troll. But it doesn't seem to be working. Something has Sollux bothered, and he's on you in an instant. He gives you a shove, ever so slight, before pointing that bony finger in your face.

“What? Jutht becauthe you actually own the plathe, maketh you think you can push me around?” he continues to growl. Still, something catches your eye. Something about his expression and his demeanor just tells you that something was bothering him.

And it certainly wasn't that ever so slight nudge you gave him.

“Captor, what's wrong?”

He eyes you suspiciously, sneering and snarling, but it doesn't phase you. “What'th it to you, D Eth? Oh, look at me! I'm Dave Thtrider, and I'm going to pretend to give a shit.”

Despite that urge to just give him a look, you keep up a deadpan expression, giving nothing away.

“Actually, Captor, I do give a shit. So, how about you stop. What's wrong?”

His lip curls, but in that moment, he just deflates.

You had to get him to talk, had to find out what was wrong.

It was a gamble and you knew it. For all you know, you could push him to far, and there would be no opening up for him. Maybe you would find yourself pinned by those psionics of his. This wasn't something you knew wouldn't happen, after all. You've seen the aftermath of his alarm clock on the second day. Still, you simply had to try.

You reach out to grab that bony shoulder, and he flinches, but does not pull away. Sollux just looks away, looking almost as if he were...

Ashamed.

“Sollux, bro. Talk to me.” you urge. “Whatever it is. Talk to me. I'll try to help.”

Those odd heterochromatic eyes snapped back up at him in a glare.

“You want to try and fucking help? Do you want to know what'th wrong?” Sollux is trying his hardest to sound angry, but the shakiness of his voice gave him away.

“After thith, I have nowhere to go! After thith, I'm back on the fucking thtreetth! You know how hard it ith to find an affordable plathe to thtay in thith shitty ath fuck town? Ith that what you want to hear? Ith that thomething you can “fix?”

You just blink, trying to get the words to sink in, then it just hits. It hits hard. You realize, that first day he was at that door, desperate and disheveled, with those bags slung around his shoulders, that he just looked far too off for someone just needing a place to crash.

“Look, you know I have a spare bedroom. I opened my door for you. At least, I am pretty sure I did and this isn't some odd as fuck dream. You can stay here.”

It was a gamble and you knew it. You still barely knew Sollux. Four days does not make a relationship. Sollux could be a terrible roommate, for all you knew. You could wake up next week with the apartment trashed and taken over. But you doubted that.

He looks at you, questioning your decision, confused by how quick the gesture of kindness was.

“D Eth, you barely know me.” he points out quietly, staring at you as he simply tries to just get you. He can't. He doesn't understand you and it's frustrating him and you can see that.

You can't help but to smirk.

“Well, you haven't murdered me, trashed my shit, or ripped off my equipment. I say that's pretty good grounds for making you a roommate.” you give a small huff of laughter. “Really, pretty fucking lucky, if you ask me.”

There is a hint of a smile twitching at Sollux's lips. “I jutht don't get you.” he shakes his head, holding out his hand. You grab it, giving a firm shake.

“Welcome aboard the SS Strider, Captor. Enjoy your stay.”

And that was that. That was the gamble It's been a couple of months now, and nothing really has changed. You half expected to chase him out of the apartment. Maybe find yourself in jail while they dug up the body, given they would ever find you. Or it could have been him that buried your body. Yet neither one of you were really at one another's throats, unless you counted the dickish banter between yourselves. He sits in his room to code, you in yours to mix. Neither one of you hardly ever come out to bother one another, outside of talking about your respective best friends and their poor choices in film genres, or unless you're cooking.

For two.

When had this gotten so domestic?

You don't even know when it had started up, this making a meal for both of you. Maybe it had been that time you watched Sollux attempt to cook mac and cheese. You figured you liked having your building nice and not burnt down.

Still, that happened after you made him bacon the first time around.

It just seemed so natural. After all, if one was eating, why eat in front of the other? Sollux often times appreciated the gesture. So much so that one day, you found your computer running faster than you ever remember it running.

Not to mention he was damn good at keeping the place relatively clean, outside of the inter-tangled network of wires that has managed to take over your apartment.

A mutual understanding is what this was, no matter how domestic it seemed. You fed him, he fixed the electronics. A bro code of sorts that you two managed to work out.

That was the gamble. You ended up with a roommate, and a pretty chill friend, and that was that.

Or so you thought.

You guess you never really expected the emotions to throw in odds that you had never suspected.

You didn't quite understand the fluttering of your heart every time he entered the room. Nor the flush on your cheeks when he glanced your way.

At least, you thought you didn't understand it. Maybe there was a part of you that didn't want to understand it. Feelings were never quite your forte, and this was simply not something you wanted to deal with.

Still, you were dealing with a gamble.

And you knew it.

And now, you were going to lay down the cards.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

You stand in that doorway with that platter of bacon and a glass of milk, just like you had that first time you cooked for him. Trying to take deep breaths to calm your nerves that you didn't even know could be rattled. You watch him type away at that keyboard at speeds you never thought could be possible. You make your way to that desk, setting down the offerings on that one tiny spot of empty desk. He nods in thanks, never taking his eyes on the screen.

“Hey, Captor.”

Sollux pauses from his work to glance over at you, eyebrow quirked in questioning curiosity. He doesn't say anything, just waits for you to say what you needed to say and be done with it.

What he wasn't expecting was for you to gamble in the only way you knew how.

It happenes in a matter of milliseconds. So fast that not even you, the Knight of Time, can register it. At least, not until your pale lips are on his thin black ones.

It is your riskiest gamble yet. You have no idea what to expect, what to even predict. You don't know what's going to happen if you lose, and you know even less should you win.

You are praying to whatever willing god out there that this gamble would not end in a bust.

Your eyes are closed, but you know his are wide with shock, frozen in absolute astonishment. You don't feel him press back.

But you don't feel him pull away or shove you out of that room with a spectacular array of eye fireworks, either.

Win? Bust? Draw? Time's moving too slow for you. You know when to fold when you see it.

You think so, anyways.

You're about to pull away, apologize and abscond, but Sollux doesn't let you. His thin fingers tentatively cup the back of your head, the troll sighing as he presses into that kiss himself. It's light and gentle and cautious and curious, and so unlike a forward cool kid like yourself.

However, it just feels so right.

You're damn sure you won this hand. Won the jackpot, actually. Everyone else, go home and leave your clothes with one Dave Strider, please.

You both pull away, faces slightly flushed with the color of your blood as you open your eyes. You can't help the slight smile on your lips as Sollux just... giggles. A grown troll-bro, and he's giggling like a damn schoolgirl.

It's the cutest damn thing you ever saw.

“So, Captor, as I was saying. You. Me. Friday night. Pizza. Movie. Sloppy make-outs. Let's do this. Let's make this happen.”

Sollux is grinning that rare toothy grin of his.

“Hell yeth. It'th happening.”

It's a gamble, and you both know it.


End file.
